


The Galaxy 11

by Cherry_B



Series: Cressi Week 2k18 [7]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: #Galaxy 11, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, No kids either, Trope Groundhog Day, cressiweek2k18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:51:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry_B/pseuds/Cherry_B
Summary: Cristiano fails again and again and again. He keeps trying because he has to succeed one of these times right?





	The Galaxy 11

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the Galaxy 11 Samsung ads. This takes place at half time when they're down 2-0 against the aliens. If you haven't seen it just Google Galaxy 11, full movie is up on YouTube, it's over 20 minutes but so worth it. I saw day 7 had a space prompt and I was like oh yes, space love here I come.
> 
> Yes, I am late by almost two months. It was mostly done back then but then I thought "What if I add in groundhog day?" and I did...today. So here it is, my final submission for Cressiweek.
> 
> Edit: There is now a Russian translation (https: //ficbook.net/ readfic/ 7600689) by the awesome [Lady_Mirakel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Mirakel). Thank you so much!

Cristiano punches the electric blue screen of his locker. The image of his face distorts for a second, his features pixilate and fall out of alignment. 

"Cristiano," Iker warns him. Their goalie, his _true captain_ , frowns and pointedly stares at him. 

The others watch him, seated on the benches spread across their luxurious locker room, they all look so tired and dirty, obscene in how they stand out against the pristine room. The place is more like a spa, large tubs and sparkling white floors and walls, but the strange alien tech just puts them ill at ease and reminds them of what's on the line. 

The frustration and fear is palpable in the room and no one is angrier than Cristiano. 

"They're cheating," he says. "They're ridiculous. Their height and speed and strength. None of this is fair. You saw how they stopped my free kick with an aerial flip!"

He's working himself up, getting angrier by the second and then suddenly Messi walks in. All of his anger zeroes in on him.

"You!" Cristiano snarls, "You got in my way. That header would have gone in if you hadn't gotten in my way."

Messi looks surprised by the vitrol in Cristiano's accusation and that pisses off Cristiano even more. A player that doesn't take every move in this game seriously doesn't deserve a spot on the Galaxy 11, much less the captain's band. 

"Me?" he asks. "I got in _your_ way? Oscar sent that ball my way," he spits back, suddenly just as angry. His sudden backbone lights up something within Cristiano, it's a vicious satisfaction to have an outlet for his frustration. It's also a relief because he can almost pretend Leo is telling him, _I'm here, I remember_. 

"O-oh boy," Oscar mutters in the background. 

"Maybe if you moved faster you would have reached the ball, as it was the ball wasn't heading towards you, it was headed for the ground."

"Why is that a bad thing?!" Messi asks, completely perplexed. 

"You know what I mean!" Cristiano shouts back. 

Iker stands, probably to separate the two of them but Messi holds a hand up.

"No, let him speak. He needs to get this out of his system before we go back out there because we can't have any more distractions on the pitch. We are down by two, we can do this, we can save the world but we need to clear our minds and act with out feet not our egos."

Cristiano gapes, vacillating between feeling impressed with Messi's rallying speech and feeling insulted. 

"Done?" he asks as Cristiano flounders. 

"No!" he sputters. "No! We aren't done here!"

"I hope not," Rooney quips. 

"Not now," Wu Lei scolds him. 

"He's just easy," Rooney grins. 

"We need to keep our heads in the game," Iker states, giving everyone in the room the stink eye. "How about you two talk this out and the rest of us head back out. We'll be talking strategy with the Mister. Try not to kill each other."

Everyone trudges out looking deflated and worried. Cristiano itches to follow, he doesn't want to be alone with Messi. 

"So?" Messi asks after a minute of silence.

"So? What do you mean so? If we don't score in the second half the world will be destroyed!"

"Is this about me being captain?" Messi asks.

"No!" 

"Then what going on? You need to keep it together."

He huffs and drops down on the bench behind him. 

"This isn't the time for a breakdown, Cristiano. We're down and we need you. Seriously, you have to keep it together because if you don't then-" Messi cuts off with a loud sigh. "We can't do this without you."

Cristiano stares at Messi, at the bags under his eyes and his hunched shoulders. It's as if suddenly the weight upon his shoulders is visible for all to see. It's like the weight of their multiple failures is showing.

"That's true," he says in the end, for lack of nothing else to say. This team was chosen, each player called up, for a reason. They all have their roles for play and Cristiano's is to score and ensure Earth's survival. It's just he keeps failing and he keeps seeing Messi fall apart and it's starting to be too much.

He's had chance after chance and he's not sure where it's coming from, from the aliens or from God but he keeps messing it up. The first time he had been brought back he had been so disoriented he had missed clear chances. Confused as to whether their first loss was a dream, a nightmare from which he had awaken. But they had lost again and again and again. How many more chances did he have? To wake up and try again, to reach out and grab Leo's hand as the world exploded right before their very eyes. 

And wasn't that something, each time his failure was different, he missed a goal or was fouled or got hurt. He always fucked up somehow but after it was over there was someone who stayed by his side until the very end, every single time. Everyone else faced their demise alone but Leo, Leo always stayed with Cristiano. 

The first time Leo held his hand Cristiano has pulled away, frustrated, devastated, horrified. Watching all his loved ones die before his very eyes had seemed unreal. He had not accepted it, could not fathom it, did not comprehend it as it happened. The second time he had lashed out, and from then over and over and over again until his failure had crushed him. Left him raw and open and hurt behind repair. He had held Leo's hand then. Held it tight and fallen apart. After that he had reached out first.

It was like that every time since. 

Ultimately it comes down to two things, frustration and fear. Cristiano is frustrated and he's afraid. He's afraid of failing again, he's afraid of losing, of messing up every chance he gets to right his wrongs, he's afraid he's never going to be good enough. He's afraid of when the cycle ends and he runs out of chances. He's afraid it never will.

"We can do this," Messi says with a wobbly smiles that speaks of his conviction. He believes they can, he believes in Cristiano and that's what gives him strength. That's what keeps him going.

That's why this time, Cristiano doesn't wait until it's too late, until it's the end of their time. 

This time, as Leo looks up at him from the bench, eyes warm and cheeks flushed from running, Cristiano reaches out to him.

"Yes, yes we can," Cristiano says as their fingers touch, sliding his hand into Leo's, he pulls Leo up. 

"Let's go save the earth," he whispers, leaning in. Pressing the barest hint of his lips to Leo's, a promise of afterwards, the possibility of them. 

"C'mon, captain," he calls over his shoulder at a stunned Leo. "We have a match to win and a world to save."


End file.
